


The Solemnity of Merlin

by MugetsuPipefox



Series: Albion's Greatest Need [1]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-26
Updated: 2014-11-26
Packaged: 2018-02-27 02:10:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2674985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MugetsuPipefox/pseuds/MugetsuPipefox
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Arthur's death, Merlin waits for his return, all the while being able to do naught but watch as the people he loves grow old and die, leaving him behind. But somewhere between hallucinations and despair, Fate decides to show an act of kindness. Return/Reincarnation!fic, no slash</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

King Arthur Pendragon was dead.

No matter how many tears he cried or how he wished it wasn't so, Merlin knew it to be the truth. 

Arthur had been Merlin's purpose in life; his reason. Without him, there was no real use for his magic other than to ensure that Camelot remained protected until Arthur returned. Because he would return. The Great Dragon had told him so.

So, in preparation for this, Merlin built a small house not far from the shores of the Lake of Avalon so that he would be there when Arthur rose again.

He knew that he would have to return to Camelot. The people deserved to know what had happened to their king. Gwen deserved to know what had happened to her husband. But still he put it off, convincing himself that it was best to wait until he could form a coherent sentence without choking on a sob before he finally made the journey around a month after Arthur had gone.

Gaius, Gwen and all the remaining knights (Merlin soon learned that Gwaine had perished at the hands of Morgana – a revelation that caused him to once again lapse into a pit of despair) were very supportive, never blaming him. Never saying that he had failed. Never judging him in the ways he was judging himself.

Gwen had somehow discovered Merlin's magic. Merlin blamed Gaius, though she was quite adamant that she had figured it out for herself. Gwen had asked him if he would take up the position of Court Sorcerer but Merlin had declined. He knew where he needed to be. This did not stop him, however, from fighting off any threat to Camelot that arose.

It was only a few months after he had returned to his home by the Lake of Avalon that Merlin felt it. It was like a part of whatever remained of him had suddenly shriveled and died. He did not need confirmation to know that Kilgarrah had passed.

Merlin had thought he no longer had any tears left to cry.

He was wrong.

Not a week later Aithusa arrived at his doorstep in a similar state to him. They had both lost people they cared about and, being the last of their kin, put their differences in allegiance aside and stayed together.

Over time, Merlin had managed to heal much of Aithusa's twisted, deformed body, although some of the damage had been irreversible. She would not grow to be the size that Kilgarrah had been, but whether that was because she was a different kind of dragon or because of her stunted growth, Merlin wasn't sure.

Whenever Merlin visited Camelot, Aithusa was made to stay behind. Although the ban on magic had been lifted, Merlin knew that the sight of a dragon would set the people into a sense of unease. Gwen had enough on her plate without having to deal with rioting citizens. 

Gwen, Gaius and even the knights made regular visits to the Lake – both to pay their respects to their fallen king as well as to see Merlin and ensure he was doing alright. It was during those times that they formally met Aithusa, who had, after the initial shock had worn off, apologised profusely about not having known the darkness in Morgana's heart. They quickly took a liking to her.

As the years went by, Merlin could do little but watch as the people he loved aged and died, and not long after the death of its childless queen, Camelot fell. 

When the world around them began to change, Merlin cast several enchantments on the area surrounding the Lake to protect it, Arthur and Aithusa. No matter how things changed, Merlin would ensure that this small part, this sacred place, remained untainted by time.

One thousand years came and went and, one day, for the first time in his long life, Merlin was truly alone. He gave Aithusa a funeral fit for a king.

Isolation did not treat Merlin kindly. In an attempt to ease his loneliness, his brain conjured images of the people he had loved and lost but these hallucinations quickly back-fired, becoming a constant reminder of his every failure. The faces that had initially smiled and comforted soon twisted into sneers and looks of disgust as they told him that he had failed, that he had betrayed them.

At first, Merlin tried to ignore them. He would tell himself that what he was seeing wasn't real – just figments of his imagination. But he soon found that to simply ignore was not possible. The next time a figure appeared to him, he fled, hoping that when he returned the image would be gone and he would be left in peace.

It had almost been 1500 years before Fate decided to show him one small act of kindness.


	2. Chapter 2

Over the years, Merlin had developed a routine. Every morning he would get up, dress and eat, before heading outside and walking around the Lake shore.  
  
He wasn't really sure what he expected to happen on these trips. He certainly didn't expect Arthur to miraculously pop out of the water complaining that Merlin's incessant pacing had been driving him mad. In fact, he had stopped believing that each day would be the one that Arthur would return more years ago than he cared to remember. It seemed to him that no matter what horrors were unleashed upon the land, Fate never thought them worthy enough of the attention of the Once and Future King. But he would be lying if he said that each time he returned home empty handed he wasn't disappointed.  
  
On this day, Merlin would not be returning to his small house empty handed, but nor would he be taking with him something he would have come to expect.  
  
No, it wasn't Arthur that appeared on the shore of the Lake of Avalon on that fateful day.  
  
Spotting something reflecting the sun's rays, Merlin crept closer and picked up the dull golden stone that looked suspiciously like a dragon egg.  
  
But surely all the dragons were gone? Made extinct after the death of Aithusa…  
  
Admiring the colour of the 'egg', Merlin couldn't help but find long-thought forgotten memories of Kilgharrah springing into his mind. He felt fresh tears stinging at his eyes and would not have noticed that he had unconsciously murmured the name of the Great Dragon if the shell hadn't cracked.  
  
Merlin started at the sudden noise and would have dropped the egg had he not been holding onto it so tightly. In a matter of moments the egg had crumpled away, leaving a small golden dragon sitting in his palms gazing up at him with eyes that shone like his own whenever he used magic.  
  
A part of him despaired that he had unwittingly named this new dragon after his long dead friend, but another part pushed past that and recognised the incredible similarities between the two. Apart from the size, of course.  
  
The birth of Kilgharrah had kindled something inside Merlin that he thought had died long ago – hope. Kilgharrah was exactly what he needed to know that there was still purpose in his life and there were people waiting for him. That there was still someone that cared.  
  
Kilgharrah was everything Merlin had remembered his namesake to be. He was relatively docile, preferring to sit and gaze up at the sky than run around like normal younglings would, he had a look about him that gave off a vibe that he knew more than he was letting on, and, Merlin couldn't stress this one enough, he was very stubborn.  
  
Despite this, he never seemed to protest too much when Merlin did something he didn't like – such as making him wear a party hat on his birthday – and Merlin found that he never needed to order the small dragon to do anything. Kilgharrah was there for him whenever he suffered from a hallucination and would sit watchfully by his side whenever he woke from a particularly bad nightmare.  
  
Kilgharrah was about the size of a Beagle when Fate gifted Merlin with another surprise. This time in the form of a round, blue egg. The moment he spotted it, Merlin knew exactly what he was going to name the dragon hatchling waiting inside.  
  
And, thus, Aithusa was born.  
  
Where Kilgharrah had been placid and calm, Aithusa was hyperactive and excitable. It seemed impossible for her to sit still for more than a moment. When she had learned to fly, it was near impossible to get her to stop. She would insist on flying indoors if the weather outside was not adequate and this often served to make the already messy room comparable to a pig sty.   
  
  
Merlin had been relaxing with mug of tea in front of a cheery fire when Kilgharrah spoke his first words.  
  
"Merlin," came the higher pitched, but nevertheless familiar voice.  
  
Merlin nearly choked and had to put the mug down before he dropped it. Catching his breath, Merlin turned to where Kilgharrah was perched on the back rest of the couch.  
  
"It is good to see you again."  
  
Merlin frowned in confusion. He hadn't gone anywhere recently… had he?  
  
Seeing his confusion, Kilgharrah sighed a sigh that seemed to say 'I can't believe my Dragonlord is so dense' before elaborating with, "I am the Kilgharrah you remember, young warlock – or, rather, _old_ warlock. I have been reborn, as has Aithusa." Kilgharrah turned to look at the oblivious white dragon who was currently chewing on the corner of the rug.  
  
Merlin thought he saw a look of resentment cross the dragon's face but it faded as quickly as it had appeared, making him think that he had imagined it.  
  
Merlin opened and closed his mouth a few times, giving a good impression of a fish, as he struggled to find something coherent to say.   
  
"Why didn't you let me know sooner?" he asked. There was no point in trying to deny it, Kilgharrah had made it quite clear.  
  
"To be honest, I only just truly figured it out," Kilgharrah explained, turning his attention back to Merlin. "I believe I always felt that I knew you, like we had met in a time before my own existence. This was only clarified when my memories returned to me a few minutes ago."  
  
"So, then, Aithusa doesn’t remember?" Merlin grabbed a pen and flung it at the dragon in question.  
  
Aithusa stopped her chewing abruptly and gave him a look that clearly showed her indignation.   
  
"Not at the current time. I believe that when it is necessary, her memories shall return to her, too."  


* * *

 

And, as always, Kilgharrah was right.  
  
It was another year and a half and in much the same situation when Aithusa first spoke. And, like the time with Kilgharrah, Merlin had not been prepared and nearly choked on his tea.  
  
"I'm sorry," Aithusa stood on the opposite side of the room with her head hung in shame.  
  
"Aithusa?" Merlin responded, the silent question hanging in the air.  
  
"For leaving you behind. I left you by yourself."  
  
"That's hardly your fault," Merlin signaled for her to come closer and she willingly obliged.  
  
"I know, but I still feel bad. You would have been by yourself for so long."  
  
Kilgharrah watched the exchange from his favourite perch on the couch's back rest and found that he could not continue to be angry with the white dragon. It was clear from her interaction with Merlin that they had worked things out in her past life and that everything had been forgiven.  
  
The relationship between the three kin only grew stronger after that.  
  
And then, almost exactly 1500 years after Arthur Pendragon was laid to rest in the waters of Avalon, Fate decreed it time for him to return.

**  
**


	3. Chapter 3

Merlin had been eating breakfast when he heard it. The voice and tone was one that he had unfortunately grown used to over the past however many years it had been. He really didn't care to recall.  
  
 _Merlin._  
  
Merlin tried to ignore it, continuing to focus on his bowl of Cornflakes.   
  
Kilgharrah and Aithusa recognised the signs – the slight hunch and the tightness of the shoulders – that signaled whenever Merlin was hallucinating and they were quick to relocate until they were as close to him as possible. Aithusa chose to settle at his feet, her head resting against the side of his leg, while Kilgharrah sat on the chair opposite Merlin's.   
  
_Merlin. You traitor. If you had done a better job I would still be alive._  
  
"Go away," Merlin whispered, not taking his eyes from his cereal. He was grateful for the two dragons' presences.   
  
_You're a monster. All people with magic are evil and deserve nothing less than death. Yet why am I the one who was punished?_ You're _the one who practices the power of the devil!_  
  
Merlin could see the undeniable figure of Arthur moving around the table so that he was in Merlin's direct line of sight.  
  
 _You've failed. Because of your inability, I'm dead. And I'm not the only one. What about your father? Or Freya? What about Lancelot? He shouldn't have had to die! It's all your fault that they're gone. Even Gwaine's blood is on your hands; the man who called you his best friend! How could you betray him like that!_  
  
"Morgana killed Gwaine!" Merlin's voice wavered at the proclamation. He knew that Morgana had been the one to kill Gwaine. And he knew exactly what not-Arthur was going to say next.  
  
 _If you had dealt with Morgana before she became such a threat none of this would have happened._  
  
"It's not real Merlin," Kilgharrah said calmly but his words were lost on Merlin, who was too consumed by the truth he found in not-Arthur's words.  
  
"I know," his voice was barely a whisper. He wasn't sure if he was talking to the apparition or Kilgharrah, or even both. What he did know was that this wasn't something he was going to be able to ignore.  
  
Merlin abruptly stood from his seat, causing the chair to grind over the worn floorboards. He could feel all three sets of eyes on him – two in concern and one in disgust – as he grabbed a coat from the hook beside the door and opened it.  
  
"I'm going shopping," he mumbled to reassure his kin before stepping outside and disappearing into the forest.

 

* * *

 

 

Arthur couldn't breathe. What bothered him was that he couldn't quite figure out why. His whole body felt strangely weightless and he briefly wondered if he was dead. That would make sense, wouldn't it? After all, he remembered Mordred's blade slipping into his torso. He remembered being held by Merlin while his life slowly ebbed away…   
  
Merlin!  
  
Where was Merlin? What had happened? Was he really dead?  
  
Surely not. Surely if he was dead he wouldn't feel the ache of his lungs begging for air. So then where was he? And where was Merlin?  
  
Something in him told him to go up. Arthur, not being able to come up with a better idea, swung his arms out in front of him and kicked out with his legs as he slowly made his way upwards through the endless expanse of blue. The weight of his chainmail and armour made the work more laborious than it should have been but eventually his head broke the surface and he took deep breaths of clean air.  
  
That was when he realised he was treading water about 200 metres out in a lake. He knew that he needed to get to shore so he pushed every other thought from his mind and painfully slowly made his way to where the water and earth met.  
  
What felt like hours later, Arthur was on his hands and knees on the lake shore breathing heavily. He lifted his head and scanned the area, searching for any sign of his manservant. But Merlin was nowhere to be seen.  
  
Shakily, Arthur managed to find his feet and began travelling down a small worn path he had spotted nearby. He had no way of telling whether it was just a simple animal trail or if it was made by the pounding of human feet, but he knew he needed to find help and it was his best bet.  
  
His hopes weren't in vain as, after about 5 minutes of walking he found himself in a clearing dominated by a small wooden house. It wasn't very big nor did it appear very grand, but it was a house nonetheless. And where there was a house, there were people.  
  
Taking a moment to gather his strength, Arthur strolled forwards and knocked three times on the door.  
  
"Who...think it is?" came a quiet voice on the other side of the door after a few seconds of silence.  
  
"I don't know…shouldn't be able…enchantments…" another voice responded.  
  
At the mention of enchantments, Arthur found himself on edge. He reminded himself that Merlin had turned out to have magic and he trusted the man with his life but he couldn't just change a life time of beliefs in a single moment.  
  
"…ignore…leave…?"  
  
"What…Arthur?...No sign…possible…"  
  
Silence for a moment.  
  
"…think…this way; do…want…angry, unstable…warlock?"  
  
"No…answer…"  
  
"Enter," came a male voice in a much louder tone than the previous hushed whispers.  
  
Arthur had become increasingly wary after having heard mere snippets of the conversation happening on the other side of the door but he couldn't deny that he was in need of help, if only to point him in the direction of Camelot. So, taking a deep breath, he turned the knob on the door and stepped inside.  
  
The inside of the house was much like the outside. It was worn and most of it was made of wood. Just in from the doorway was a small round table with two chairs, neither of which were tucked under the table. A row of benches lined the opposite wall where a large, white, metal _thing_ sat between them and the side wall. A closed door to the left signified another room. To the right was a cozy looking sitting area. A stone fireplace was situated in the wall and the floor was covered with a rug that had seen better days. A strange soft-looking piece of furniture sat against the wall behind a low wooden table. Arthur hadn't seen anything like it in his life and the only words he could use to describe it were 'confused bed'.  
  
But the thing – or, rather, _things_ – that caught his attention were the two sets of eyes watching him closely.  
  
The blue set belonged to a white reptilian creature that Arthur could happily confirm he had only had to face a few times in his life; a dragon. It stood by one of the wooden chairs and watched him closely. It was only about the size of one of his hounds back in Camelot but that didn't make it any less intimidating.  
  
A golden set of eyes watched him from the back part of the confused-bed. This dragon he did recognise, although it was much smaller than the last time he had seen it. Perhaps it was a different creature that simply looked similar.  
  
But then it spoke.  
  
"Arthur Pendragon, welcome back to the land of the living."   
  
Arthur flinched. He hadn't known dragons to have the capability to talk. A small part of his mind questioned whether he had heard the very-not-dead Great Dragon talk back when he was dying but he quickly squashed it down.  
  
"Shouldn't we have felt something?" the white dragon turned to her companion. "Surely something such as this would give off a great amount of magic."  
  
"I am in agreement, young one. But that does not change the fact that he stands before us."  
  
"Um, what's going on?" Arthur drew their attention back to him. "I'm looking for Merlin, do you know where he is?"  
  
"He went shopping!" the white dragon chirped happily.  
  
 _I was dying so Merlin went shopping?!_  
  
"I suggest you stay here while we wait for his return," the gold dragon added.  
  
Not really enjoying the prospect of being left alone with two creatures that could potentially kill him, Arthur hesitated before shutting the door and taking a seat on the wooden chair furthest from the white dragon. It was at that point that Arthur realised he no longer had his sword.  
  
"So, uh, how far is Camelot from here?" Arthur asked to break the silence.  
  
"Camelot is no more," the gold dragon said solemnly.   
  
"What? I thought we won the battle!"  
  
"You did, but it has been a great many years since you departed from this world."  
  
"What happened?"   
  
"There was no one to take the throne after the death of Queen Guinevere," the white dragon explained in a similar tone. "After that, it was taken over by other kingdoms. The land has changed a great deal over the years. Little of what you are accustomed to still remains."  
  
"Guinevere's dead." It wasn't a question. Both dragons seemed to understand that. Arthur could hardly believe it. How many years had passed that everything he knew was gone? "How long?"  
  
"Around 1500 years," the gold dragon sighed.  
  
"Oh."  
  
"I'm Aithusa," the white dragon decided that a mood change was in order. "And that grumpy one over there is Kilgharrah."  
  
Kilgharrah scowled at her but said nothing.  
  
"So, whose house is this?" Arthur asked. It seemed that he was full of questions these days.  
  
"Merlin's," Aithusa hummed happily.  
  
"Wait, what? How could Merlin be alive after 1500 years?!"  
  
"Merlin is Emrys," Kilgharrah replied.  
  
 _Gee, thanks. That completely clears things up_ , Arthur wanted to say, but thought better of it.  
  
Aithusa seemed to notice his confusion, however, as she added, "In simple terms, he's immortal."  
  
Before Arthur had a chance to let that sink in, the door swung open of its own accord and in walked Merlin, looking exactly as he had the last time Arthur had seen him, except that instead of his usual attire, he was wearing black pants made of an unfamiliar material and a strange dark blue jumper with some kind of hood attached to the back of it.  
  
Aithusa hurried to her feet and trotted over, a big smile on her face.  
  
"Hello, Aithusa," Merlin returned the smile and crouched down in front of her, letting the bags he was carrying down beside him. "I got you something."  
  
If it was possible, Aithusa's smile grew as she watched him rummage through one of the bags. "I take it you're feeling better?" she asked.  
  
Merlin nodded and pulled out a package wrapped in paper. He unwrapped it and allowed the dragon to grab the roasted chicken it contained between her jaws.  
  
"Now don't make a mess," he instructed. "There's one for you too, Kilgharrah," it was only at this moment that Merlin lifted his head in the direction of Kilgharrah and Arthur couldn't contain the smile that had wormed its way onto his face when Merlin saw him.  
  
His reaction wasn't what he had expected.   
  
Merlin's whole body tensed and his eyes shone with a mixture of fear, shock and sadness. Their eyes locked and neither of them looked away. Arthur could feel his smile falling at the obvious unease that was rapidly affecting the once vibrant man before him.   
  
The only warning he received was a small 'uh-oh' from Aithusa, who had dropped her chicken, before Merlin suddenly stood and hurried back out the door, leaving the bags where they were.


	4. Chapter 4

None of them moved for several minute-long seconds after Merlin's abrupt departure. Arthur wasn't really sure how to react. He'd thought that Merlin would be happy to see him after 1500 years, not flee at the sight of him. Arthur was brought out of his musings by a sigh from Kilgharrah.  
  
"I'll go get him," Aithusa was no longer smiling. She moved over to the door but stopped in the doorway before turning to look at the two other figures in the room, narrowing her eyes. "If either of you touch my chicken it'll be the last thing you ever do." And, with that, she slipped out and hurried off after Merlin.  
  
"What… just happened?" Arthur found himself asking, eyes still focused on the door.  
  
Kilgharrah moved from his spot and walked over to the table, where he jumped up and sat on the other chair. He was silent for a so long Arthur doubted he was going to answer.  
  
"He doesn't think you're real."  
  
That only served to confuse Arthur more. "What do you mean?"  
  
"Do you know what it's like to watch all the people you love die while you continue to live on?"  
  
He was about to reply in the affirmative as the memories of wars jumped to the forefront of his mind but he quickly corrected himself as he realised that, no, he didn't. Even when some of his men died in battle, there was always someone there for him. Usually it was Merlin, but he wasn't the only one. He had his father (regardless of circumstance), Gwen, his knights, Gaius…  
  
"What does this have to do with Merlin running away?" he asked, although he had a vague idea of where this was going.  
  
"Merlin has been alone for a long time. In that time, he was almost always isolated, never allowing himself to grow close to anyone. His mind sought to fix this. However, what was once intended to be a way to fight the loneliness soon became a plague on his mind that he couldn't escape no matter how hard he tried. This is the way in which he deals with it."  
  
"He thought I was a hallucination," Arthur said in dejected understanding _. He thinks I'm not real._

 

* * *

 

 

Aithusa found Merlin exactly where she thought she would. He was sitting with his knees to his chest on the shore of the lake, looking out at the calm waters.  
  
"Merlin," she spoke quietly.  
  
Merlin turned his head slightly in her direction in acknowledgement before returning his gaze to the lake.  
  
Without a word, Aithusa walked up and took a seat beside him.  
  
"I thought going out for a while would give me some peace," Merlin murmured.  
  
"It did."   
  
"But _he_ was still there. Am I never going to escape this?"  
  
"Merlin."  
  
Something about her tone made Merlin tear his gaze from the water and look down at the white dragon.  
  
"That wasn't a hallucination. He came while you were out. Kilgharrah and I were surprised, to say the least. There was no warning, no sign. One minute we were talking and the next he was standing outside the door."  
  
"Wait. You mean…?"  
  
"Yes, Merlin, Arthur has returned."

 

* * *

 

 

Arthur looked up as Aithusa slunk back into the room. She didn’t say anything as she grabbed her chicken and began tearing the meat from its bones. For a moment, Arthur thought she had been unsuccessful, but then the familiar figure of Merlin came through the door.  
  
He stood in silence for a moment, not daring to look Arthur in the eyes.  
  
Unable to stand the silence, Arthur got up from his seat, walked over to the now rigid figure of Merlin and whacked him across the back of his head.  
  
"Ow! What was that for?!" Merlin rubbed at his head.  
  
"Still think I'm a hallucination?"  
  
Merlin mumbled something that sounded suspiciously like 'prat' and Arthur pulled him into a manly hug; after all, he still had a reputation to uphold. He couldn't let people think he was soft or something. Merlin returned the gesture with teary eyes which he furiously swiped at lest he be labeled as a 'girl', not that he would really mind. It had been so long since he had seen Arthur – the real Arthur.  
  
"I guess we're going to have to find out what catastrophic event has warranted your return," Merlin grinned wildly despite the seriousness of the subject.  
  
"I guess so," Arthur replied, not really understanding but deeming it unimportant. For the moment. "But first," he gestured to the fridge sitting innocently in the corner. "What is _that_?"  
  
Oh, this was going to be fun.

**Author's Note:**

> IDOM


End file.
